Here, he found the place empty and peaceful. The rain had slowed to a light mist in the air. Standing on the dock, he watched the dark waters and took in a deep breath.
Looking around, he realized just how amazing the place really was. When he turned, he saw all the lights of the buildings illuminate the night in the distance. From the docks, he could see the main building and the pool house. Each of them had strings of white lights hanging off the back over outdoor patios.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” someone said from the dark. He had to admit that he almost squealed like a teenage girl.
He didn’t know how he’d missed the older man sitting at the end of the dock with his legs dangling in the water.
Now, however, Dylan could easily see the red, glowing tip of a cigarette.
“Sorry.” Dylan moved to the end of the dock, and the smell of weed instantly hit him. Not a cigarette, he thought as he stopped beside the man. “I didn’t see you there.”
“No worries.” The older man glanced up at him. “Medicinal.” He waved the joint he was smoking. “Damn Parkinson’s.”
“I’m sorry,” Dylan said.
“Thanks. This helps mask it, so I can do simple things like walk, talk, live.” The man chuckled, then took another hit.
“I’m Dylan.” He sat down next to the man and held out his hand to shake his.
“Ross.” The man met his grip, and Dylan noticed a slight tremor in his hands. “Patterson. We’re in the Refuge. Sorry—this was my wife’s idea.”
“Pretty good one, I’d wager.” Dylan watched as the moon finally poked out from behind the clouds, the light reflecting off the calm waters.
“So far, so good.” Ross took another hit. “We don’t have many warm nights like this in Oregon. I would have killed for a job like this when I was your age.”
“Oregon’s nice,” Dylan responded, remembering the last time his father had taken them on a ski trip to Mount Hood. It had been years since they had taken a trip with him anywhere. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped one year, and the interest the man had previously had in them had died down. They hadn’t noticed it, until he’d disappeared this time.
“Yeah, this stuff is legal there.” The man waved the joint.
“It is here too, with a medical card.” He rested against the railing. “So I won’t be running to the police, if you’re worried.”
The man laughed. “Son, at my age and my condition, I don’t give a damn about spending the night behind bars.” He sobered. “No, what I worry about is leaving my beautiful wife too early.” He tossed the used joint into the water, where they watched it sink. “I waited too damn long in life to finally ask for her hand.”
He held up his left hand so that the moonlight glinted off his wedding ring. “I met Lara almost ten years before I grew the balls to ask her out.” He rested back, his eyes going to the stars. “Five more years before I asked her to marry me. I shouldn’t have wasted any time.”
“You have time now,” Dylan said, feeling his heart break slightly for the man.
“She deserves more than a man like this . . .” He held up his hand, and it began to tremor. Dylan didn’t know what to say. “Well.” The man stood up slowly, and Dylan stopped himself from helping him move. “Son, enjoy what you have now. If you have a woman, and she’s worth holding on to, don’t take too long to do it. Night.” Ross slapped him on his back and started strolling slowly, relying on a cane as he walked down the dock and pathway.
Dylan watched the man go and turned his eyes back to the water and thought of Zoey. If she was the one, would he let what was going on with his father get in the way? What if she did know something about where his father was hiding or about the missing money? Maybe the money hadn’t gone into the camp at all? Would that change how he felt about her?
His first answer to all of it was no. Maybe it was the honesty he saw behind her eyes, or maybe it was just his libido answering for him, but either way, he doubted that she would ever intentionally do anything to cheat someone else. Even for the sum of money his father was worth. Zoey was better than that. Didn’t he owe it to her to give her a chance to explain what she did know?
When he stepped into the dining hall five minutes before the meeting, he found his brothers leaning against the back wall and stood with them.
As Zoey followed Elle into the room, he watched her eyes scan the small group of full-time and part-time employees, then briefly rest on him before moving on.
“Thank you, everyone, for taking time out of your evening for this impromptu meeting. We’ve heard the rumbles of gossip flooding through the camp.” A few chuckles and whispers echoed through the room. Elle held up her hand to stop the noise. “We get one shot at this. To make River Camp something great, something to be proud of. To keep the high level of clientele we’re so excited to have now. That same clientele who pay us to give them our best experience and to keep their secrets. If we spread gossip around, we might as well toss all that out the window.” The room was silent. “Every one of you signed an NDA. Each of us as well. We may not all agree with how our guests live their lives, but it’s not up to us. What is up to us is how we respect their privacy and how we deal with the situations as they arise.” Elle visibly relaxed. “We appreciate how each of you have handled things so far, and we expect from here on out that the gossip floating around will be squashed quickly.”
At this point Zoey stepped forward and touched Elle’s shoulder.
Elle continued. “From the sounds of things, we should be expecting more of these . . . parties. We didn’t plan for them, but I still expect everyone to handle our guests with great esteem and kindness. Yet we have started patrolling the common areas as a deterrent for destruction. If anyone happens to come upon anything, you’re to call the front office immediately instead of intervening.”
Elle stepped back. “Thank you for your time, and have a good evening.”
“Well,” Owen said, straightening up. “That was fun.”
“Yeah, just like all those times in the principal’s office getting chewed out for passing notes.” Liam chuckled.
Dylan corrected him. “You weren’t in the office for passing notes. None of us were.” He smiled. “Besides, I’d rather have those five chewing me out than Principal Bowers any day.”
“True,” Owen said, grinning. “That man’s face always turned a nasty shade of purple when he was yelling at us.”
Dylan laughed at the memory and decided to wait until Zoey was done so he could walk with her to the stairs.
Ten minutes later, she was finally free after talking to several employees.
“So?” she asked. “How’d we do?”
He took her hand in his. “Remind me never to get in trouble around here.”
She stopped and glanced up at him. “Was it that bad?”
He laughed. “Being reprimanded is never a good thing.” He pulled her to a stop and then, after glancing around to make sure they were alone in the hallway, bent down and brushed his lips across hers. “But if I do have to be chastised, I pick you to do it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first week after opening day had been more of a success than Zoey could have even predicted. Sure, there were a few hiccups, but when the following Saturday rolled around, she was thinking the first pool party had been a fluke.
For the most part, it appeared that any extra activities now were being done in private.
Her mind quickly moved from her guests’ sex lives to Dylan and what he’d done to her in the small hut.
She hadn’t been back there since and doubted she could step foot in the place without thinking about him. To be honest, she couldn’t go a few minutes without thinking about him anyway. When she lay in her bed at night, in the dark, that moment was all she could think about. There were times she could still feel his mouth on her, his fingers inside her. She’d thought about picking up her phone and texting him her feelings but then kicked herself for being too clingy.
They’d enjoyed a few more meals together, and she had seen him several times during the day when she’d been rushing one way and he’d been going the other. But since that first night, they hadn’t been alone. She could feel herself getting more desperate for his touch, and each time she was around him, her body would jump on its own. She kept telling herself that her strong desire to be with him was nothing more than her wanting to get over the long sex hiatus she’d been on while focusing on getting the camp ready.
But the fact was, she kept reminding herself, he and his brothers had secrets, and she couldn’t trust him, but her body refused to listen to logic. No, her body was telling her to jump the man and not just once. She knew it would take a while to get her fill of him.
Since they had set out to watch the brothers, they had caught them on camera moving around the entire campground. However, since they were now filling the role of security, most of their movements were within the scope of that job. They no longer tried to get into any of the outbuildings, and they hadn’t been seen sneaking into any offices again.
She wondered if they had found what they’d been looking for. If so, wouldn’t they have left already? Why were they still sticking around? She and the girls were strapped enough for help as it was, so she couldn’t just boot three good workers out. Was Dylan making a move on her because he wanted something from her? She knew that was a possibility. Was she prepared to expose her heart to new pain if he just used her and left after he’d taken what he wanted?
She had just left a couple she’d had a session with in which she’d taught them how to play pickleball and was heading up to her rooms to shower and change. Glancing down at her watch, she gauged she had about an hour before she was due in the dining hall.
Seeing Dylan was part of her everyday life at this point. All she had to do was learn to control her desires around him. It was as simple as that, right? Elle had been right: two could play the spy game. She’d find out what she could about him, while taking what she wanted from him. After all, there was no point in denying herself: if he was willing to go that far, so was she.
She was heading up to change when she noticed Ryan hanging out on the landing. “Is there something you needed?” she asked. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with the jealous woman right now, especially since Dylan had kept his distance from her over the last week.
“Oh?” Ryan turned around, as if she hadn’t seen Zoey climbing the first set of stairs. “Evening.” She tried to scan the room as if she were waiting for someone. Perhaps she was—the woman was wearing a tight black dress better suited for nightclub life than a camp in the middle of the wilderness.
She decided to call her bluff. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Yes.” Her smile grew. “Dylan was supposed to meet me for dinner.” She glanced down at her watch.
Zoey almost laughed but then decided to hold back. “Well, have fun.” She waved to the woman as she started to climb the next set of stairs.
“You know who he is, then?”
Ryan’s tone stopped her, and Zoey glanced over her shoulder. “Do you?”
Ryan walked to the base of the stairs, resting her hand on the railing. She lowered her voice slightly. “Let’s just say that the Costas are well known in most circles.” Ryan smiled.
“I’m sure they are.” She narrowed her eyes at Ryan’s words. The “Costas”? “Have a pleasant night.” She turned to go and felt her entire body vibrating. She didn’t know what it was about that woman, but she couldn’t stand being around her for more than a minute at a time. It might be the smile that never left the woman’s lips and yet didn’t reach her eyes.
What did she mean? she asked herself as she let herself into their private rooms. Costas? The name rolled over in her mind as she tossed her tennis shoes into the bin by the door. She moved through the living space to the bedroom she shared with Scar at the end of the hallway.
She opened her laptop and waited for the old thing to boot up; five minutes later the update screen popped up. Updates could take forever on the old machine. Why did it seem that every time she opened the damn thing, it needed updates?
Frustrated, she pulled off the camp shorts and shirt, tossed them in the clothes bin, and walked into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Thirty minutes later, after slipping on a simple cotton dress, tying her hair up in a loose bun, and putting on minimal makeup, she sat at her computer, which had finally finished the update. She did a quick Google search for Dylan and his brothers with the word Costas.
The screen filled with multiple articles about the Costa brothers, including images. Her mind snapped. They had lied to her, to all of them, about their last name. But why? She opened a news article and was just about to read through it when her phone buzzed.
Zoey, get down here now!
Elle’s text had her jumping up and glancing at the clock. She was late; they were supposed to have met five minutes ago to judge the first River Camp talent show.
She shut her laptop screen, slipped on a pair of heels, and rushed down the stairs. When she reached the main dining room, she found she was entering right as Dean Wallis was too.
“Evening,” his deep voice rumbled.
Dean was one of the counselors who filled in when they needed him during the day and as a waiter by night. The man looked as if he’d been carved from stone—shockingly good looking.
“Hi.” She started to pull away, but he reached out and touched her arm.
“Zoey, right?” he asked.
“Yes. Dean, right?” He nodded. “I’m late.” She glanced over to where Elle was already introducing the first act.
“Maybe we can catch up later?” he said smoothly.
“Sure,” she said and rushed away, thoughts of Dylan and his lying, no-good brothers surging into her mind.
“Sorry,” she muttered as she reached Elle, who had handed over the microphone to the first act: a woman who began belting out a Mariah Carey song—fairly well too.
“That’s okay.” Elle glanced up and down at her. “I like that dress.” She reached up and tucked back a strand of Zoey’s hair that had fallen loose from her bun.
“Thanks,” she said, reaching up and fixing it.
The fact that Elle’s elegant silver dress clung to her beautiful slim body made Zoey instantly feel like a sack of potatoes next to her friend. But she knew that Elle meant what she said and took the compliment with grace.
“Where’s everyone else?” She scanned the room for Hannah. She wanted all of them together when she told them the news about the brothers.
“I’m not sure; they should have been . . .” Elle stopped. “Hannah’s here”—she pointed toward the back wall—“talking to Aubrey.”
The two of them were joined by Scarlett a few moments later.
“I have something to tell you,” she said to the group. “Later,” she added as the current act ended and they needed to introduce the next one.
Each of them took turns introducing the next acts. Some of them good; others not so much. The funniest one by far was the couple who did a ventriloquist act. The husband sat on his wife’s lap, dressed as a dummy, while she spoke.
Still, it was tough judging them all—three acts ranked in her top list. By the time the last act exited the stage, Zoey’s head was about to explode.
“I thought adults were supposed to be better at this than kids,” Scarlett whispered in her ear as a man and his wife tried to juggle on stage.
Zoey chuckled. “Remember our first talent show?”
Scarlett hissed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”
Elle nudged her. “Ready to vote?”
They had kept track of the acts and had scored each of them. Elle handed over her sheet, tallied the votes, and smiled.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a winner. Will Wendy Mills please come up?” The room burst into cheers.
Hannah handed the silver trophy to Elle, who passed it on to the wo
man who had played violin.
“Thank you.” Wendy beamed at the crowd. “However, this really should go to Denise.” The room exploded with more cheers. “No, really, it’s not fair. I play for the Phoenix Symphony. I only got up here because Denise begged me to.”
The room clapped again as Denise, the woman who had sung Mariah’s “Without You,” came on stage. The women hugged each other.
“Thank you,” Denise said. “I’m sure we’ll take turns sharing this over the years.” She wrapped her arm around her friend. “Thank you, Wendy, for giving me the courage to find my voice again.” She hugged her.
When the microphone was handed back to Elle, she waited until everyone had settled down. “Now, as we close out the talent portion of the evening, we’d like you to sit back and enjoy the talented Deb Marton.” Elle stood back as the curtain on the stage lifted.
The pianist walked gracefully across the stage and sat at the black grand piano that stood at its center.
The room fell silent as the lights dipped, and the melody started to fill the space.
Elle turned to Hannah and whispered, “This was a great idea. How on earth did you pull it off?”
Hannah smiled and glanced out at the full dining room. “You have your talents, and I have my secrets.” She winked. It was something that Hannah always said. Their friend had still never filled them in on how she managed to get famous people to do things for her.
“Speaking of secrets,” Zoey whispered to Elle. “I found out that the brothers’ last name isn’t really Rhodes. I started to do a search on them before coming over here but didn’t get far enough to find out anything deeper than a few social media links. I needed more time.”
Elle turned to her with a slight frown. “Why would they lie about their last name?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’m going to figure it out.”
“How did you find out?” Hannah asked.
“Ryan.”
“Why does that woman have it out for us?” Elle whispered back. Zoey shrugged again. “Did you know, she actually came to me and tried to convince me that you were hurting this business?”
Summer Nights Page 11
